


Stress Management

by shenevereditsherwriting



Series: Newsies! (except longer and gayer) [3]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Era, Davey is super high strung, Davey works for Medda on the side, Fluff, I'm just rambling at this point, Jack helps stressed Davey, M/M, Massage, Post-Canon, Stage Manager!Davey, Theatre, jack honey I can assure you every stage manager in the world would also like that for themselves, jack would like please for davey to be less stressed and also sleep more please, quarantine writing, stage management, supportive boyfriend, theatre nerd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23633581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenevereditsherwriting/pseuds/shenevereditsherwriting
Summary: Davey got a new job stage managing for Medda...on top of selling papes every day. He's spread very thin, super stressed, and exhausted. Jack would like to help his boyfriend (is that what we are?) and decides to give him a shoulder massage while he works.
Relationships: Davey Jacobs/Jack Kelly, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: Newsies! (except longer and gayer) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521539
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	Stress Management

Jack wasn’t cold exactly, but he wasn’t as warm as usual when he woke up. He felt more like something was missing than the temperature needed adjusting. He rolled to his back and caught sight of someone hunched over the desk at the foot of the bed.

  
Only visible by candlelight, his usually neat dark hair was sticking up, as though he’d run his fingers and pencil through it a hundred times or more. His cheeks were flushed pink with frustration. Brown eyes sat above dark circles with dried tear tracks running away. His lips were bitten red, and it was obvious he’d been worrying for some time now. Jack still thought Davey was beautiful.

  
Davey’s head snapped up when Jack rustled the sheets to stand. “Did I wake you?” His worried eyebrows drew upwards and he tucked his bottom lip in to pull it between his teeth.

  
“No, Doll, ‘course not,” Jack gave what he hoped was a comforting smile as he lightly moved across the room. Davey returned one that didn’t reach his eyes and looked back to his work. Jack leaned forward, now standing just off Davey’s shoulder. He noticed it was a script for Medda’s newest show. He’d been designing the backdrops, and she recently asked Davey to try his hand at stage management.

  
He was a good fit. Davey was organized, persistent, goal-oriented, and a great leader. Rehearsals were running smoothly, and Medda was impressed. So impressed, in fact, she’d begun paying him – nearly triple what he made selling papes. The only drawback was him agonizing over calling sheets at nearly four in the morning when he had to sell the next day. While it was good money, theatre wasn’t exactly the Jacobses’ idea of a “real job,” that is… they felt it was unreliable. There would always be a headline and someone needed to sell it, so two jobs it was.

  
Jack didn’t mind that Davey was busier. Honestly, he loved to mess with him at the theater. A safer, more secluded, invite-only atmosphere was exactly what they needed to hang out after hours. If Davey just so happened to be incredibly distracted while taking notes by the paint-covered man every so often grinning devilishly down from the stage, no one mentioned it. Medda’s director might sometimes nudge him, softly whispering, “Did ya get that?” and then recap what Davey missed with a knowing smile.

  
Jack sidestepped so he could stand directly behind Davey, still leaning down. The other boy paid him no mind, too engrossed in Cue 47, and if it went before or after the line, “Damn him, then.” Jack let his lips ghost over Davey’s cheekbone, but the only reaction he got was Dave just barely leaning into the touch. His eyes stayed trained on the script.

  
This was far from the first time Davey lost himself in his work and perfectly ignored Jack. Sometimes he’d be muttering words Jack thought sounded like math, and never even notice the older’s hand playing across his waist.

  
Jack moved to kiss Davey’s shoulder where his loose t-shirt hung to the side. He felt the taller tense beneath him, barely shaking his head to clear his mind. “Naw, baby, this is about relaxin’.” He stood up and planted his hands on Davey’s shoulders and started to work in.

  
The first gasp from Davey’s lips was a sign of victory. He continued to mark various places in the book while Jack continued to massage out all of his tension. They went on like that for awhile: Jack expertly working his hands while every few moments Davey stalled and then shuddered. He’d sigh in distress when trying to decode blocking notation, and immediately hum contently as Jack rolled over a bad knot, flickering the candle each time. Jack smiled to himself, happy to do something nice for Davey when the boy is always doing nice things for him. Most of the good meals and hot showers he got were a buy-product of staying at Davey’s place as much as he could get away with. The Jacobs Residence was a warm and inviting place, but they still laid boundaries where they saw fit. Seeing as they lacked an empty bed, Jack was supposed to be returning to the lodge after each week’s family dinner, but jogging down to the street, around to the alley, and right back up the fire escape was so much more enticing.

  
Davey’s breathing labored, and he dropped his pencil to the table when Jack started in on his neck. The flame wavered, and Davey eyed it for only a second. His head drooped and he fell to his elbows, desperately trying to support himself. Jack’s rough, calloused hands massaged gently. He used the same grace with Davey as with a favorite paintbrush. For such a strong and physically imposing guy, Jack Kelly was so loving. Davey adored that.

  
Davey stayed stressed, like… all the time. He just had one of those personalities: he worked and liked to keep busy, and then suddenly he cared so much about his work that if it wasn’t perfect, he’d keep working until it was. And that’s great, except that Davey’s version of perfect and Jack’s differed greatly. Jack thought Davey’s hair was perfect, but Davey thought it was too brown and too plain. Davey thought Jack’s smile was perfect, but Jack knew he’d never win an award for it. So, Jack innocently watched as Davey agonized at the desk every week, until tonight.

  
Davey shivered, extremely conscious of the goosebumps rising on his arms. He didn’t care though, because this was Jack, and Jack had magic hands that were designed to create worlds and melt stress. Jack started lightly kneading the base of Dave’s skull with his fingertips. That’s when Davey lost it. He contorted his face as shallow breaths puffed out his mouth. He dropped down even further, resting his forehead on the table. Then, as silently as he could possibly manage, a small moan slipped into the air.

  
Jack’s hands stalled. Jack’s whole body stalled. He must have imagined it, but that sound. Had Davey really just… maybe not. It’s late, and he’s tired, he could be hearing things! And that would have perfectly been the end of it except then:

  
“Jackiieee…” Davey whined against the table. A very much less innocent scenario knocked on the door to Jack’s mind, but he just gulped and resumed his work. Straying from his head and neck, Jack’s hands slid down to Dave’s shoulder blades, hopefully a safer option than the former. Using his thumbs, he carefully felt around for the bone, then deftly circled the muscle just under. This was a horrible plan, and not, in fact, safe at all. Davey’s reaction to his continued massage was to straighten his back, rolling his head up, and dropping it back. His face now blocked Jack’s line of sight, but he found a new view to focus on. Davey’s cinched up brow and closed eyes were bad enough, but when Jack saw his bitten lips slowly escaping his mouth absolutely divinely red, he almost quit again. Almost.

  
The next dramatically life changing thing that Davey did to Jack was flutter open his eyes and grin so sweetly, Jack thought he might explode. Instead, he stayed as composed as possible and leaned down to gently kiss Davey’s forehead.

  
“All good, Dave?” Jack choked out, pulling his hands up to rest them properly on Davey’s shoulder’s as the other righted his head and stretched.

  
“Better than good, Jackie. Thank you,” he smiled, leaning his head back on Jack’s body. Jack unexpectedly shivered and pulled his hands back. Davey turned around to look at him. “You okay?”

  
“Yeah, uh, I’s just wonderin’ if you wanted to come back to bed?” Jack slowly made his way around the desk and sat on the edge of Davey’s small bed, facing him.

  
“Well um…” Davey looked down, surveying the papers and their markings. He smiled and looked back up at Jack. “Yeah, yeah let’s go to bed.” He softly blew out the candle.

  
Jack grinned, patting the sheets beside him as he crawled back up to the headboard. Davey sat hip to hip with Jack, leaning lightly on his shoulder.  
“You’s real good at this stuff.” Jack leaned his head on Davey’s, and the latter hummed. “Ya know, the management stuff? Medda’s been huntin’ for somebody like you for ages.”

  
Davey sleepily licked his lips, more exhausted than he’d earlier thought. “Well, I’m just glad to help her out.” He snuggled further into Jack’s shoulder.

  
They talked for a little longer, quietly mumbling back and forth. Jack was tired, of course, but nowhere near as pooped as Davey. It would be perfect if Dave didn’t have to worry about school or papers anymore and could work full time at the theater. He’d be able to attend every rehearsal and get his paperwork done in the daylight, ‘stead of burning the 4A.M. oil every weeknight. Sure, Jack would see him less, but that would only give him more chances to visit the woman who raised him. He really doesn’t see her enough. Maybe if Jack talked to Davey’s parents about it, they’d consider letting him focus on management. Les could still sell — of course Jack and the boys would look after him — and Davey could work his way into some higher payin’ gigs.

  
When Davey stopped responding to Jack, he looked down at the younger boy’s closed eyes. The shadows underneath almost looked like bruises. He was so, so tired. Gently as he could, Jack slid his arm around Davey’s shoulders and lowered him down horizontal. Then, he followed and gathered up the blankets to tuck them both in. When he was settled in, Davey, probably without even realizing, rolled over into Jack’s side. Jack just smiled and carefully wrapped an arm around his waist. Davey sighed, and Jack shivered. He turned his head to lay his nose in Davey’s hair, memorizing the moment: the faint scent of Davey’s soap, the warmth limited to one side of his body, the light haze of smoke escaping out the slit in the window, New York’s nighttime songs, and the hopeful promise of tomorrow with someone he loved.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you sm for reading! it's been a boiling hot minute since i've posted anything. i've been doing a lot of writing for one of my classes, so that's taken up a lot of time. thanks to quarantine, i have loads of time! i hope to have some more installments of gay newsies up over the next few weeks. 
> 
> as always, i love love love feedback -- positive or negative, and you can find me on tumblr at satanssugar where i post about newsies, theatre, queer stuff, and much more.
> 
> i love you all, and i hope you stay very safe amidst the pandemic. <3


End file.
